


Candlelight

by bluesurvivor



Series: Poetry of The Unrealistic [1]
Category: poem - Fandom
Genre: Homicide, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, just a thingy, such murder such wow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 03:14:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6406438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluesurvivor/pseuds/bluesurvivor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a poem about a thing, I may add an illustration later on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Candlelight

**Author's Note:**

> so yeah
> 
> read at your own risk  
> i'm not responsible for what you choose to read

The door is open,

                    alight with candle's glow

Faith broken,

          wishing for home

The dim whispering of reminiscent past

                    The candle's dimming

                                        Hence returning cold

* * *

This poem's meaning is attributed to my own personal experience. The meaning, or at least what I interpret from it as the creator, is: I had an opportunity, the open door, and it was bright with the prospects of new beginnings and so many grand chances as the candle's light is usually attributed to being bright. My faith and trust is shaken, resulting in it being rather broken and not whole. This meaning not necessarily a religious faith, but of my faith in others and the general world as a whole. The faith of good giving is gone. My past still affects my life during this by making old problems arise and bringing new ones to light, this highlighting the dim whispering that is mentioned. The current state of mind is tainted with the haunting effects of my life's past, securing and displacing my future. The candle's dimming insinuates my losing battle with my mind and the effects of all my life coming together and becoming more than I can cogitate. I become numb with _cold_ , whether mentally, emotionally or physically numb; I will leave that to you all. 

 

 

 


	2. Laughter of the Damned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh my

The chuckles bellow deep from within

My grin stretching down to my chin

 

I make slow movements with my pen, writing the death of by my ends

 

Moving, so careful and slow

Makes the time faster go

 

The cries have died and are replaced renewed

The chuckles of the dead deceased

 

Their dark meat glistening red

Watching sharply as it seeps into thread

 

Their heads roll around laughing

I giggle slightly, liking what's happening

 

They stop abruptly

As I turn to dip the tip into the 'ink'

 

The red drizzles and I smile quite faint

Beauty and grace, all rolled into one

 

_My my what have I done._

 

* * *

 

Interpretation: Essentially, this poem is over murder. How it is done, I'll leave to you but know this those chosen few- the ink bleeds red as it comes from the head, the laughter nothing more than a dull whimper of a torn mind and heart. The person subjected in this writing, is more than likely, suffering from a wide spectrum of mental illnesses. The symptoms include, dramatically, the connotations of homicide, murderous thoughts/plans/actions and the insatiable presence of hallucinations.


End file.
